The readings and podcast from
this week opened my eyes to issues of identity and intersectionality that I
begrudgingly admit to never giving much thought to before. Ironically, it was
in the middle of the journal readings that I discovered that I am 1/8 Cherokee.
My father and I were discussing our identities and histories but unfortunately,
my father is adopted and, until recently, his records were sealed. It wasn’t
until he was diagnosed with Stage 4 liver cancer that his records were released
and what he calls his “true identity” was revealed. My father is ¼ Cherokee. I
never knew this growing up and I have to admit that my mind was a little blown
when I found out. I experienced an array of emotions; guilt for not knowing about
this part of my identity, confusion about whether I am “allowed” to claim the
identity as my own or not, frustration that I was unaware of such a fact until
now and excitement to learn more about that part of my history.
The
past six years at Oregon State has opened my eyes to much critical thought and
academia. I never knew or understood the world outside of the small town where
I grew up, sheltered from the reality of the “real world”. I didn’t understand
inequality or discrimination or oppression. I did not understand the social construction
of gender or sexuality. I did not understand the privilege that I inherently
hold as a white, middle-class female. I did not understand reality. Once I
began delving into critical scholarship and thought, my entire world perspective
changed. To what, I do not know. I still work hard each and every day to
understand the ways that power and control operate to silence marginalized and
oppressed groups. I try to exercise my own praxis by putting the theories that
I study into action. I still struggle with key concepts of some theories while
fully understanding the ins and outs of another. I am a student who is learning
and being shaped by her reality and the reality of others on a daily basis.
But
so what? What does all of that have to do with the intersection of Native
American Studies and queer theory? What does all of that have to do with the
empowerment that the “fat, Latina fem who is a writer” (Tovar, 2014) has to
offer? It has everything to do with it. The purpose of theory is to offer
suggestions and arguments for why things are the way they are. The purpose of
theory is to bring to light injustices and bring forth empowerment and
strength. I have grown significantly as a scholar and as a pupil in the past
six years of scholarship, but not enough. The articles and podcast from this
week made me rethink my understanding of various identities that I originally
thought I had a grasp on. Some of those identities are my own and some are not.
The readings and podcast further reified my knowledge that stories must be told
and retold time and time again. From various perspectives. With various voices.
Over and over again, until they are heard.
Earlier
I mentioned my sheltered upbringing in my very small hometown. I raise this
point to further reiterate the importance of what Virgie Tovar referred to as “public
intellectual”, which is a term she coined that means that intellect is relayed
to the public and is not restricted to academic zones alone. This a reoccurring
theme throughout much feminist/queer thought. Bell, Duncan and Moraga from
previous weeks’ readings agree with the concept of empowering the public through
knowledge and intellect. What Virgie Tovar attempts to accomplish through her “art”
or writing is something that I view as vital for change. The public needs to
know and understand theory and current issues and components that are second
nature to scholars such as hegemony, oppression and marginalization. Growing up
in the small town that I did offered shelter from the real world, which I
suppose was welcomed by my mother, whose job it was to protect my sisters and I
from the ugly world outside of the walls of Dallas, Oregon. But I have
concluded that shelter and protection are very different things. Being
sheltered from reality doesn’t protect someone; it merely leads them into the
world blindly. It takes diminishes an individual’s agency. It sugar-coats a
world that shouldn’t be sugar-coated. Theory should be digestible to a variety
of audiences. This has been my strongest reaction to the articles, readings,
films and pod casts thus far. To hear the importance of accessible scholarship
echoed through several articles just in a single course gives me hope that
maybe, one day, scholarship and theory will be more available to those who do
not have access to such material currently.
The
concept of accessible scholarship has helped form Virgie Tovar into the scholar
she is today. Much of her work focuses on access and making connections between
a variety of identities. I listened to the podcast previous to beginning the
journal readings, which foreshadowed a lot of the material throughout the
journal. The journal was a special edition; one that focused on the objectivity
of Native American studies and the problems associated with such
objectification. The articles throughout raised many questions, perhaps more
than they answered for me. Maybe that was the purpose. Maybe it wasn’t. Either
way, it was obvious to me that GLQ: A Journal to Lesbian and Gay Studies is not
accessible to anyone who is interested. I fail to understand why. I am
generally hyper-interested in any theory or article or journal that discusses
identity and various intersections of identity, but I have realized that I seem
to be especially interested in the material if it pertains to me on a personal
level. This may mean that I identify with the focus group or maybe that my
experiences more or less parallel another group. I am hoping that this is
normal and I am not simply selfish in my ways. I found that I was so frustrated
with my previous knowledge of Native Americans and the purposeful way I was
taught about “them”, when all the while, I was one of “them”.
I
bring this up only to further illustrate why scholarship should be more readily
available. The Cherokee Nation was specifically mentioned throughout the
journal readings and I felt this new found excitement in reading them. I am so
ashamed to admit that I hadn’t the slightest clue that the Cherokee and Navajo Nations
banned same-sex marriages. But then again, how would I have known that? One
article within the journal discussed colonialism and its effects on heteronormativity
throughout these nations and I was surprised at my complete lack of knowledge
on the topic. At first I was frustrated with myself for not being “up to speed”,
but then I realized that I probably would have been if such issues and concepts
of identity were introduced earlier to me. I am not making excuses, I have
access to much of the academic world because of my privileged position as a
student; however, seeking out articles that discuss perspectives that I am
unaware exist is problematic.
Reading
through this post, I realized that it sounded much like a rant, which was not
my intention. We were asked to draw connections between the readings and
podcast and link the material to personal experiences and the lack of
accessible scholarship is what was most prominent in my mind throughout the
readings. It has been through critical discourse that I have grown as a
scholar, a mother and a person. I recognize that I have much growing and
learning and changing to do, perhaps the process is never-ending. All I know
for now is that I intend to use my knowledge for a purpose. I don’t want this
to merely be “just a class” or a requirement for graduation. I want to take my emotions,
my knowledge and my passion and educate others. My son. My mother. My father.
My sisters. My peers. I am privileged enough to be in this academic position
and I refuse to let it go to waste.
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